


His Assistant

by YesIWriteFanfiction



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: ? - Freeform, Masturbation, Other, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 13:30:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19476886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YesIWriteFanfiction/pseuds/YesIWriteFanfiction
Summary: Something I wrote some time ago as a request on my TumblrakaProwl has a crush





	His Assistant

He shouldn’t be doing this, not during working hours. It’s unprofessional and he’s got work to do, not to mention that anyone can suddenly walk in and see him like… like this. But Prowl can’t stop, not when he’s gotten himself so worked up. So CLOSE. Three of his fingers, knuckle-deep in his valve, twisting and scissoring, touching every node and sending delicious waves of pleasure coursing through his entire body. He’s biting down on his other servo, muffling as much noise as he can though sometimes a whimper escapes when he hits that sweet spot inside of him. He can’t help it.

It’s all his new assistants fault, really. If not because of them then Prowl would not be in this situation right now. He would be writing his reports, just like he should be doing, not fragging himself on his fingers. Really, they must realize what they are doing to him when they look at him like that, wishing him good morning and bringing in his enegon when he forgets to go and take it himself. Yes, this is what they want, for him to burn up from the inside out with lust. Why else would they smile at him every time they see him?

Just thinking of them makes his valve clench and his hips buck so wildly that he almost falls off his chair. He’s so close. So, so, so SO close. All Prowl needs is a few more thrusts and then-! His thoughts are interrupted by a sudden knock on his office door. “Sir, it’s me. I have those reports that you requested”

Frag. Frag frag frag frag FRAG. It’s them, his assistant! He forgot about that. How could he forget that? He never forgets! But now is not the time to think about that, he needs to act quickly. Prowl takes a handkerchief out of his sub-scape and quickly cleans up his servos. Then, to hide the scent of lubricants, he spills the cube of energon next to him, hoping that its smell will overpower it. He crosses his legs, hiding his leaking valve, and calls them in in. The door opens and in they come. They instantly notice the spilled energon.

“Did I spook you by suddenly knocking sir?” they ask with that sultry voice of theirs and just hearing it makes his now empty valve clench again. Prowl simply nods at their question. His assistant stares down the floor. “My apologies, I should have known you were immersed in work but you asked my to deliver these reports as soon as I got them. Do you want me to clean up this mess for you sir?”

“It is fine, just… leave the reports on the table” Prowl manages to get out. Frag, even you calling him sir is enough to make him leak. He needs to get them out of here quickly before they realize what was going on. “Now leave me so I can finish this, I don’t have time for idle chit chat”. He doesn’t mean to sound so rude but he is desperate now. If they don’t leave right this second he will probably start touching himself again. Luckily, his assistant does as he say. They are always so obedient after all. The moment they are out of the room he starts touching himself again, this time more furiously. He inserts three fingers at once into his valve and start riding them like a mech possessed.

He needs to find his release and this is position is not enough. Slowly he stands up from his lubricant-drenched chair and bends himself over his desk, despite it still being covered with energon. Yeah, this position is better, it makes it easier for him to imagine his assistant taking him. There’s no use in denying it, he wishes he could replace his fingers with their spike, have them panting down in his audio as they chase their own relief. Prowl briefly wonders if he should just have continued to touch himself when he let them in or perhaps call them in again so they can see the state he’s in, what they do to him. They probably would offer to help him. Yeah, they definitely would. They would beg him to let them bury their spike in his valve, to pound him like a mechanimal in heat and fill him up with their transfluid. They would praise him like they always do, telling him that he deserves to be taken care of and have a good time. He always works so hard after all. They would tell him much they appreciate him, how much they care for him. That they LOVE him.

And it’s with that thought the Prowl overloads, optics flaring up and valve clenching around his fingers like a vice. His whole frame trembles as he desperately tries to vent down the cool air. When he finally collects himself he stands up and looks down at his lower body. Prowl frowns in distaste. He made a mess and now transfluid is running down his legs and making a puddle on the floor. Not only that but now his front is covered in energon from leaning over his desk! How annoying. He would have to clean this all up, he could not let anyone see him like this. But despite his frustration Prowl does not regret his choices and actions. It had felt more than good and was absolutely what he needed. And from the heat gathering up in his frame again he can tell that he will need to do it again soon. Dammit, his assistant really made him lose control. Why did he have to love it so?


End file.
